Title Nine, Schmitle Nine

While nobody was looking, the swells who run our international affairs effectively destroyed the entire concept of women’s athletics. We have now advanced well past the absurdity horizon, the point past which no recovery is possible without resorting to the forces of dark bigotry and reaction.

It used to be that for a male to compete as a female in the Olympics, he needed to have had the requisite surgery two years prior. That was stupid and perverse, but at least it was post-op stupid and perverse. If some guy wanted a gold medal bad enough, he had to do something drastic for a chance to get there. But now, wafting along with the zeitgeistian breezes, the intelligentsia has effectively destroyed women’s athletics everywhere.

This rules adjustment by the Olympic committee will make it necessary for every institution down to high school to make the same adjustments, and poof, there go all your feminist advances. Title nine, schmitle nine. And it wasn’t even done by the religious right. Of course, we conservatives are allowed to get a certain wheeze out of it, but we had nothing to do with it. Not our zoo, not our monkeys.

The johnnies in charge of this insist they are going to keep everything “fair” and “equitable,” to which a wizened sage in the mountains once replied, “yeah, right.” They strive to maintain their pretense by saying that male athletes striving to compete (penis and all) with the ladies must have their testosterone levels “below 10 nanomols [sic] per liter for at least 12 months before competing,” and “that the testosterone level must remain below this while competing.”

They must do this via hormone treatments! You male athletes out there! You must take hormones! Not you girls born that way! Not you! You may not take hormones! In short, the guys must engage in a form of doping to get down to 9.8 nanomoles while the ladies may not do anything to get up to 9.8 nanomoles. How many court cases do you think it will take before somebody finds out how arbitrary it all is? And when they discover how arbitrary, inconsistent, and stupid it all is, does anyone seriously think that they will resolve the inconsistency by kicking the guys back to the other locker room? Ha.

No, absent repentance, the logic is already settled for us. Bruce Jenner is a competitive guy, and not only was he able to become a woman, but was also able to become Glamour’s Woman of the Year. You girls think you know how to be a woman? Watch this. And he did it in only six months. That’s what the feminine mystique actually must have been — making it look hard. Thus far Jenner.

In short, the entire field of women’s athletics is now wide open to every male “also ran” in the world. Gee, I wonder if any of those guys might be brittle enough, insecure enough, vain enough, competitive enough, conceited enough . . .

Now if you are a simple mechanic living in Des Moines, or a welder making your living in Phoenix, or perhaps a sawmill hand in western Montana, I want to bring you in on something that you all more than halfway suspected already. And that is the glaring fact that the people running the world are fools.

Now many of them, no doubt, did well on their GREs. The tachometer in their little red convertible of a brain can bounce nicely at the right side of the dial. But that does not change the fact that they are barreling down the wrong road late at night, a dark and stormy night actually, and the bridge right up ahead of them is out. Once they launch the whole red operation off the end of that collapsed bridge, the tachometer, such as it is, become largely irrelevant. One does not glance at it any more. One has somehow lost interest.

So we are not talking about IQ. In Scripture folly is a moral category, not an intellectual one. But even with that important qualification made, folly as a moral category can still get pretty stupid, and there comes a time when the only possible answer is that of a horse laugh.

Begin with the premise that nobody knows what a girl is, reason validly from that point on, and you can soon find yourself neck deep in twaddle. The bubbles you see around you are being blown from the bottom by the medical chiefs of the International Olympic Committee. Start with the assumption that gender is a social construct, apply the rules rigorously, and when you next look around, you may come to the crucial realization that all the important people are moonbat crazy. Assume with all the cool kids that your grandparents’ sexual mores were infra dig (as the kids say today) and terminally unhip, and the end results will be dottier than a three-day festival of dalmatian owners.